Death and Taxes
by tinparrot
Summary: Draco is forced to do the unthinkable. DracoHermione. Dark and very tragic. Oneshot. Complete.


**Hey guys. This is revised and the outcome of the story is a little different. I like this version better, actually. Please review! Luv ya.**

**Disclaimer: We dance, we kiss, we schmooze, we go home happy, and I STILL own nothing.**

**XXX**

Draco Malfoy stumbled through the alleyway between numbers sixteen and seventeen in Church Street, London. The acrid tang of filth encrusted streets and self-disgust prompted his dinner to the back of his throat. He forced it down before falling heavily into the adjacent wall. The brick exterior of the structure split the heel of his hand, though the internal agony coursing through his veins made the physical pain pale enormously in comparison. Unaware of his injury, he let his head drop limply into his free hand, a clear sign of defeat. Both muscled shoulders bobbed in grief under the harsh, judgmental glare of a street lamp. When he raised his head, tear-glazed eyes focused their indigo depths on the building directly across the street, forcing their way through the layers of crushing darkness.

Pushing off the wall, he trudged slowly forward and across the road until he came upon the darkened house. _Her _house.

Flashback 

"_Oh Draco! It's perfect! Look at the architecture! Look at the gingerbread trimming! Oh can we get it Draco? Please? I'll stop going to buy shoes every week and I'll work extra hours and I'll do everything I can to conserve the money and I'll_–_"_

_Draco stopped her mouth with a kiss. He felt her smile as she leaned into him. Pulling back, he looked down into her face shinning with as much joy as a child who's just been told he _can _go to the fair. _

"_Yes, we'll buy it. Let's go talk to the real estate agent and see if we can put a down payment on it or something."_

"_Oh Draco!" she cried happily, leaping into his arms. "Thank you!"_

_End Flashback_

He silently walked though the small front garden teeming with bright flowers. She loved those flowers.

_Flashback _

_Draco pulled up to the house in the late afternoon, having come home early from the office. As he got out of the car, he saw her out in the front garden on her hands and knees. Walking up to the wrought iron gate, he leaned on it and watched her work._

"_Hey there!" he called happily._

_The girl turned to look at him and her face broke in an enchanting smile as she recognized his face. Jumping up she ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck. Resting his hands on her hips, he looked down at her and asked, "What are you working on over there?"_

_A delighted light came into her eyes as she exclaimed happily, "Wait right here, I'll show you."_

_As she ran back over to the flowerbed, Draco watched her with the utmost contentment. Her pale yellow skirt flowed in the slight breeze sweeping through the yard, as did the yellow ribbon tied around her ponytail. Her Ked sneakers thumped softly as she ran back over to him, a flowerpot housing a bright purple flower in her hands._

"_I got these for a dollar a piece at the hardware store when I was there looking for a towel rack. Aren't they pretty? I thought they'd make the house look really welcoming from the street."_

"_And did you get the towel rack?"_

_Her face fell a little. "Well, no. Once I saw the flowers, I completely forgot I was there for a towel rack and walked out of the store without thinking twice about it."_

_Draco let out a little chuckle. "It's ok. I still love you."_

_He face split in a wide smile and she pulled him back down for another kiss._

_End Flashback_

He ascended the front steps and halted at the front door.

_Flashback_

"_Bye Draco. See you tonight." She leaned in for a quick kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Go be great at work and put bad people behind bars." She slid her hands down his shoulders and straightened his tie. "Are you going to apparate or take the car?" _

"_It's too pretty to apparate. I'm taking the car. See you tonight." He planted a kiss on her cheek. "What's for dinner?"_

"_Tilapia and garlic bread."_

"_Sounds great.. Bye!" He walked down the steps an out to his car. Opening the door, he threw his brief case into the passenger's seat and slid behind the wheel. Just as he was about to turn the ignition, he looked up to see her face. She bent down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, lingering just long enough to make him angry he was leaving for work. _

"_Have fun," she whispered._

_He couldn't say anything, just nodded, pulled out of the driveway, and drove away. _

_End Flashback_

Slipping a strong hand into the front pocket of the dark blue jeans he was sporting, he fumbled with the keys for a second. Managing at last to retrieve them, he inserted a brass one into the lock before turning it and pushing the door open.

_Flashback_

"_Draco, isn't this exciting?" She waited impatiently for him to open the door. "We're opening the house for the first time as the owners!"_

_He finally managed to get the door unlocked and he pushed it open into a spacious living room. She walked in after him, looking around with a huge smile on her face. She stopped in the middle of the room and twirled, her cotton skirt flowing away from her long, slender legs. Draco walked to her and she stopped. _

"_Do you like it?" Her voice was tentative and her eyes were unsure._

_He didn't say anything, just picked her up by her slim waist and spun her around just as she had been doing. _

_He set her down, laughing, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. _

"_I love it."_

_End Flashback_

The interior of the house was dark except for the ever-changing glow of a television set sitting across the room advertising vacuum cleaners. Draco let the door close softly behind him and flicked on a small lamp perched on a cherry table to his right. The sudden brilliance of the bulb revealed the slumbering form girl lying across the couch.

_Flashback_

_Draco pushed open the door after a long day at the office. The living room was dark save for a small table lamp illuminating __Pride & Prejudice__ open on her lap. She looked up and her face broke into a wide smile. _

"_Hey handsome! How was your day?" She stood and walked over to him. She stretched up on her toes to kiss him, seductive curves arching gracefully. _

"_It wasn't bad," he said. "Tom was an idiot and some jerk tried to jinx a door so that it slammed on whoever walked through it, but that's not new."_

_She smiled. "Since it's Friday and we don't have work tomorrow, I rented a movie and bought some popcorn. Are you too tired to watch?"_

_He laughed. "Are you kidding? Just let me change."_

_She smiled happily and skipped to the kitchen. "I'll make popcorn."_

_When Draco had finally extracted himself from his accursed suit, he sought her out in the kitchen. He found her dancing to the beat of the seconds on the microwave._

"_What movie is it?" He asked, reaching into the fridge to grab sodas for them._

"_Some muggle movie called __The Bourne Identity__. It's supposed to be some action thing. The guy at the movie rental place said it was good. I rented it because I like the guy on the cover. He has nice arms."_

_He set the sodas on the counter and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "I'm sure it will be fine," he said dropping a kiss on her shoulder._

"_Hey, hey. Don't start. I want to watch the movie."_

"_Aw, fine," he said pretending to pout. "If you like the guy on the cover so much, just go marry him instead of me."_

_She rolled her eyes, "And give up this rock?" She wiggled her left ring finger and a generous sized diamond winked and sparkled in the light. "Not on your life." She poured the popcorn into a big bowl and added copious amounts of extra salt and butter. Striding out into the living room she put the disk in the DVD player and sat down onto the couch. Leaning back against Draco's chest, she said, "And now, your feature presentation." _

_Draco smiled and threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth._

_End Flashback_

Draco let out a sigh, half choked by a sob. The disturbance in the room caused the beautiful features of the girl to scrunch together in momentary complaint to the disturbance. Small, delicate hands came up to brush away any remnants of sleep still residing in her eyes. Those beautiful, trusting, chocolate brown eyes he loved so much opened and surveyed the room, looking for the perpetrator responsible for disrupting her nap. Catching sight of him caused her full, pink lips to part in a wide smile and an exclamation of pleasure.

"Hey handsome! How was your day?" Getting up from the couch, she walked over to him. Draco grimaced at the familiar greeting.

_How can she be so beautiful wearing only that? _Draco asked himself as his eyes skimmed down her body. She had donned a simple pale pink tank top and light, sheep-adorned pants in the same color. Her long, slender legs ended in slippers decorated with smiling purple rabbits.

She moved forward to pull his mouth in for what he knew would be a searing kiss, but he turned his back to her. Undeterred, she snaked her hands around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder blade.

"Did you have a bad day?"

He did not answer.

"Well, do you want to talk about it?"

"No." He wouldn't look at her. He _couldn't_ look at her.

She withdrew her arms from around his midsection. "Okay, but come keep me warm on the couch while I fall asleep again."

"I can't." There was a short pause in which Draco knew she was looking at him curiously.

"What's wrong?"

_If only you knew._ "Everything."

"Will you please stop being so cryptic and tell me what's going on?"

"There is so much you don't know, so much you haven't done."

"I'm planning a trip to France this summer, does that count?"

"You won't go on that trip."

"Why? Do you want to go to Venice instead?" She sounded confused.

"No. I just want–" he didn't finish. He heard her move forward behind him and felt her small hand on his shoulder. She tugged at him to get him to face her and though he did turn, he still would not meet her eyes.

"Draco, I know something is wrong and I want you to tell me. We can talk about it." When he continued to stay silent she asked tentatively, "Was it something I did?"

His whole body went rigid and his head whipped around to at last meet her gaze.

"What?" His eyes sparked with sudden anger that she had not been expecting. "Why would you think it would be something you did?"

"I–" she looked frightened, "I didn't mean–"

His gaze dropped. "You don't understand." He looked up at her. Taking one of her hands in his, he slowly brought it up to his mouth. "It… " He paused to kiss a finger tip, "…was…" he dropped a kiss on another, "…not you." He let a kiss fall onto the back of her hand, lingering for just a moment. Then he said, so lightly that she felt his words across her skin more than she heard them, "It could never be you." He looked up at her. "_Ever_."

"Well, um, then – what did you do?"

He let out a mirthless laugh. "It's not what I've done. It's what I am _going_ to do, what I _have _to do."

"Draco, look at me." Her voice was soft and kind. Placing her hand on his jaw she turned his head gently but firmly so that he was forced to look her in the eyes. "We always have a choice. We never _have_ to do anything. According to a wise old muggle, nothing is certain but death and taxes."

Draco let out a humorless laugh. "Yes, death. Death is certain."

"We all die some time. Is that what this is about? Some long lost relative you love is going to die?"

He looked at the ground and said, "No. Oh God, I wish it were though."

Hermione started to voice her confusion when he said again, "I have no choice."

"Draco, I just told you. We always have a–"

"Pardon me," his head snapped up to look at her, "I misspoke. It turns out I _do_ have a choice."

Her face broke in a smile. "See, I told you­–"

"If I don't do it, we're both dead. If I run away, they get you and kill you to hurt me. If _we_ run away, they'll track us down. If you run away they'll find you and we'll both still be screwed. If I try to stop them, I'll spend the rest of my natural born life paying for it, but they won't kill me. Oh no, that would be the _merciful_ thing to do. If I _do_ do it…" He fought to control his emotions, then looked up at her, tears threatening to run down his face.

"Who's making you do this?" A hint of fear had begun to creep into her voice now.

"_They _are."

"You mean – the deatheaters?"

"Yes."

Hermione backed away from him until she hit the backside of the couch.

"You told me you were done with them. You told me you were never going to have anything to do with them anymore! What happened?!" Her voice rose shrilly with each horrific realization.

"I don't have anything to do with them. _They _hunted me down. _They_ sought me out. _They _wanted something to do with _me_."

"But –"

"It's not my choice."

"Draco. What are you saying? " Hermione sounded very scared now.

"I need you to say that you love me." His eyes were burning, piercing into hers with a mesmerizing ferocity.

"What? I don't –"

"Say it."

"But I can't –"

"_Say it._"

Hermione stared up at him. He needed her to say it. He needed it so badly that it was almost tangible in the air.

"I – I love you. You know I do Draco. But, what are you doing?" She tried to press herself closer to the couch, as if hoping it would absorb her some how and take her away from this horrible scene.

"Don't you see? It's the only way." He moved toward her. His hand went deep into the back pocket of his jeans grasping the handle of a long, thin, shining piece of steel. Slowly, he drew it out. The firelight caught the metal, causing it to glint and sparkle.

"The only way what?" He could feel terror emanating from her in waves as he closed in on her. Knowing he was the cause of her horror caused his step to falter slightly.

Finally he was right up next to her, towering over her with his six-foot-one frame. He stroked the side of her face lightly with the hand that was not otherwise engaged. "It's the only way," he said again, looking into her chocolate eyes that, though clouded by fright, were filled with trust and love, "…that I'll be the last thing you see." He watched the words flash across her face. Then, a sickness roiled in his stomach as he saw them register.

Before he could allow himself time to change his mind, he whipped the knife out from behind his back and drove it forward. The silver tip cleaved through flesh, the same flesh the felt so soft under his fingertips, and came to rest in her heart. The heart she had willingly given him, even while knowing his past.

Tears now flowed freely down his face as he watched pain twist her beautiful features into a grimace. Her legs would not support her and she began to slump down to the floor. Draco caught her easily and lowered her to the ground. Sinking to his knees, he cradled her in his lap.

"I'm so sorry Hermione. I couldn't…I had to… They made me…I didn't have a choice…I'm sorry, I just -"

"It's alright, Draco. You had to." Her face tightened in pain for a second before she continued. "I'm happy I can see you now." The tears came harder and faster as she spoke. "I suppose it was the right choice. Maybe. I guess we'll…never know." Her breathing was becoming labored now; each word was costing her dear. "I just want…to tell you…a few things. You are the most…wonderful man I have ever met. I gave you my heart, and you have it still, even as I lay here. But I can't…forgive you." The words were like a knife through his gut.

"Please," he whispered. "Please say you can."

"I – I'm sorry. I want to, but I can't." She was struggling to hold on now. Looking up at him, she gave a small smile. Reaching her hand up to cup the side of his face, she whispered, "I still love you, Draco. I always will."

"Hermione…oh God…Hermione."

Her body went rigid, and her limbs started to shake. Draco knew she had only minutes if not seconds. "Hermione, oh God. I'm so sorry. Please, please forgive me. Oh God, don't take her." The words rolled off his tongue, even as he realized it was his fault he was saying them. Hermione convulsed several times, her beautiful neck arched in pain. Her delicate hands clenched painfully on Draco's forearm, long nails digging deep into his tanned flesh. A line of blood trickled softly down his arm. Then she stilled, her limbs relaxed, and her head fell sideways. She was gone.

Draco let out an anguished cry, the force of it tearing his throat. Had their been anyone else in the room, they would have recoiled with the agony and the pain and the suffering all bottled up in that one sound. Draco looked down at Hermione. She lay peacefully on his lap, exotic features slack in death. _Death._ He hated the word as much as he hated himself right now. Gathering her against his chest, he gently rocked her back and forth, back and forth, face pressed deep into her silken hair.

She hadn't forgiven him. She had wanted to, but she hadn't. _"I – I'm sorry. I want to, but I can't."_ The thought of having committed such a hideous crime that the one he loves can't even forgive him threw Draco into the very deepest depths of self-loathing.

"Oh God, Hermione. I'm so sorry."

Hours later, or maybe it was days, Draco couldn't tell, he released her. While he had been holding her, her body had begun to cool. To Draco it felt as though the last remnants of life were leaving her body. Setting her down gently on the floor, he stood and looked down at her. Crimson blood pooled all around her, soaking into her chestnut hair and staining the rug beneath her. Tears started again, but these were tears of anger, not sorrow.

Seizing the small table to his left, he threw it hard against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces. He spun and sent a plant stand flying with a vicious kick. He drove his fist through the glass of a shadowbox hanging on the wall, splitting open the skin on his knuckles and leaving the glass stained and dripping with dark crimson blood. He tore through the room like a bulldozer, demolishing anything and everything in his path.

When he came to the side table resting beside the ravaged sofa, he pulled out the drawer and flung it away from him. A loud clunk sounded as it hit the floor. The sound was louder than it should have been. He spun, murder in those beautiful blue eyes, and focused on the wreckage of the drawer. Something metal glinted from beneath the splintered fragments. Striding over to it, he kicked aside the remnants of wood. A shining gun lay on the polished wood floor, staring up at him tauntingly. He picked it up and checked to see if it was loaded. It was.

He turned and sank against a wall, sliding down it to the floor. For several long minutes he sat there, staring at the revolver in his hand, thinking about what he had done. He had taken the life of the only thing he had bothered living for. He had loved her and she had loved him, and he had violated that trust in the worst possible way. This was how he was destined to live his life, as a tool used for the eradication of unwanted roadblocks. He would not do that. He _could _not do that.

At long last, he came out of his reverie. He shifted his gaze to the surrounding room. All the destruction presented before him was just a glimpse of the pain and agony running through his heart. He saw Hermione's purple rabbit clad feet from around the wreckage of the sofa. The horrid faces of the rabbits were frozen in mocking smiles, completely unaware of the browning red liquid caking their fur into spiky clumps. They were laughing at him, reminding him and ensuring him of what a pathetic excuse for a man he was. He hated them.

Tearing his eyes away from the rabbit's taunting expressions, he looked back down at the gun. He slowly turned it over in his hands, admiring the beauty of such an efficient murder machine. This device had one purpose. If the trigger was depressed, the bullet was ejected and continued until it came into contact with something solid enough to stop it. The complex map of hardware resting within the safety of his palm was minimalistic engineering at its finest. There were no complicated decisions during its lifetime. It wasn't even able to _make_ decisions. It didn't have to concern itself with which was the lesser of two evils. It didn't have to deal with guilt and love and hatred and obligation. It was beautiful in its simplicity. As he rotated it around one last time, he brought the tip of its barrel to his head.

"I am a monster."

**XXX**

**Rather depressing huh? I like the fact that Hermione doesn't forgive him in this version. Makes him seem much more tragic. Review darlins! **


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